In Her Wildest Dreams (2 page)

Different.

Erica gave herself a mental shake, trying to clear away the confounding emotions his statement had sparked. But despite her best efforts, she couldn’t dismiss her body’s reaction to Gavin’s compelling stare or his words, spoken with such blatant meaning.

The question, of course, was what she should do about it.

***

Forcing herself to concentrate on the mountain of tasks on her to-do list, Erica headed back on foot to her office, housed just a few minutes away in the One Canal Place building at the base of world-famous Canal Street. This office was all about location, location, location. Lord knows, if she could get away with it, she would lease something in one of the less expensive downtown buildings, or maybe even in nearby Metairie. But Erica had made the decision early in Your Wildest Dreams’ conception to cater to an exclusive clientele. Her company was too high end to be housed in a run-of-the-mill suburban strip mall.

Besides, if she moved, she wouldn’t have easy access to the best chocolate in the city.

Sipping the chai latte she’d picked up at the coffeehouse downstairs, Erica settled into the chair behind her desk and logged into the software program Gavin had created for her to keep track of Your Wildest Dreams’ event bookings. She re-counted the number of experiences she had booked at Château Dumais, even though she already knew it was fourteen. She kept meticulous notes of every booking in her mind, a side effect of her years of working as an accounts manager in a marketing firm.

A message bubble popped up on the screen, reminding her that it was time to make her monthly deposit in the checking account she’d established for her mother. Erica logged into her bank account and electronically transferred three-hundred and fifty dollars into her mother’s account. She couldn’t afford the added fifty dollars, but her mother’s birthday was coming up; she couldn’t
not
throw in a bit extra.

“Not as if she’s going to use it on herself,” she mumbled.

Erica had no doubt that James or John or whoever her mother’s newest live-in boyfriend was, would suddenly need a new part for his pick-up truck or some other such nonsense. And her mother, as usual, would trip all over herself to come to his rescue. Anything to keep her man happy, even at her own—or her daughter’s—expense. And, even though it was inevitable that he would soon be gone, leaving Erica to soothe the frayed edges of her mother’s tattered heart so that the next guy could come in and rip it to shreds all over again.

Every month Erica ignored the voice in her head that told her she was throwing good money after bad. Even though Maxine Cole had done a piss-poor job of providing for her, she was still Erica’s mother. The few hundred bucks every month allowed Erica to keep a clear conscience.

Although, after last week’s payment on the eighty-thousand dollar hospital bill for the emergency surgery her mother had six months ago, Erica was seriously considering dropping the monthly stipend to two hundred dollars. And make that every
other
month.

In less than a year, the small nest egg she’d built up had dwindled to only a couple of thousand dollars. First came her uninsured mother’s emergency surgery back in June, then a busted water pipe in her condo during a freak cold snap in November, and then a busted radiator on her car two weeks after that. If one more thing went wrong, she would be completely tapped out.

“Stop it,” Erica ordered herself.

Things looked a bit sketchy right now, but she had to believe that her impending financial crisis would be averted and everything would work out in the end. The hospital’s finance department had been very accommodating, so far. It may take a while, but she would find a way to pay off her mother’s hospital bills and replenish her savings.

The revenue from the record number of experiences she had booked for Valentine’s Day would be a strong start. That is, if she could find hotel rooms for fourteen loving couples.

Erica searched the electronic file she kept of suitable hotels and started making calls. A half-hour later, she was still at square one. There was a huge convention starting on February 9th, and eighty percent of the hotels in the city were booked solid throughout the Valentine’s Day weekend.  The other twenty percent fell into her bottom tier.

Except for one.

“God, please don’t make me call them.” Erica sighed.

If there was one thing she’d learned in these past three years, it was that burning bridges could really come back to scorch your behind. When she’d first contacted the Manor Royale Hotel in hopes of establishing a partnership, the manager had been less than enthusiastic, citing the newness of Erica’s company and its complete lack of a track record. And, as was her modus operandi back then, Erica had taken exception to such talk and had stormed out of the manager’s office.

Not smart. So,
so
not smart.

Thankfully, she had developed better negotiation skills. She’d struck a deal with Château Dumais, using the boutique hotel exclusively for all Your Wildest Dreams experiences that required a hotel stay, except when clients expressly asked for a particular location.

Too bad no one told the termites that Your Wildest Dreams had the exclusive on Château Dumais.  

“This is a nightmare,” Erica muttered, running a hand down her face.

She continued poring over contacts while wading through the sea of emails cluttering her inbox, and trying not to become overwhelmed by the enormous amount of work ahead of her. Running a one-woman shop that catered to individuals who expected to be treated as if they were her
only
client was not easy. But Erica wouldn’t have it any other way.

She was her own boss. She was in control of her own well-being, not at the mercy of a call from some corporate office she had never visited that could dictate whether or not she had a job. She’d been there and done that, and she was determined to never, ever experience that kind of vulnerability again. The responsibilities that came with being in business for herself were mind-boggling, but so were the rewards.

Nope, she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Chapter Two

Gavin twirled the whisk around the bowl of tempered white chocolate, then drizzled it over the rows of cappuccino-flavored truffles. He grabbed the sifter filled with powder-fine ground espresso and treated the confections to a light dusting.

He surveyed his work, picking out a couple of chocolates that didn’t pass muster. Too much or too little drizzle, too generous or too stingy a sprinkling of espresso, and it would ruin the experience. His mother and Erica were always happy recipients of whatever chocolates were unfit to sell in the store. Although Erica wouldn’t get any misfit chocolates today. Gavin had something extra special for her tongue.

At the thought of her tongue, he dropped his head back and groaned at the ceiling. His stomach clenched just thinking about the way her tongue had peeked slightly out of her mouth when he’d placed the chocolate on it earlier today, how she’d moaned in pleasure as she’d feasted on his creation.

“Damn,” Gavin whispered. The woman had no idea how much she drove him crazy. Although he’d pretty much shouted it through a bullhorn with that comment he’d made about her curves. Subtlety had never been his strong suit.

Gavin rubbed the back of his neck, releasing a frustrated breath.

It hadn’t started out this way, this intense, all-consuming hunger he had for Erica. Sure, he’d found her attractive from the very start. In fact, Gavin remembered the guilt he’d experienced when he’d first met with her to create Whitney’s birthday surprise. But it was that initial attraction any healthy, heterosexual male encountered when put in contact with an attractive woman.

It was later, after he and Erica had become both friends and business acquaintances, that Gavin had started to feel more. The feeling had continued to escalate, to the point where he now found himself watching the clock, waiting for the late afternoon when she usually stopped in at Decadente.

Gavin recalled the look of pure ecstasy on her face when she’d sampled his pomegranate dark chocolate truffle. Yeah, he lived for putting that look on her face.

“Gavin?”

He pivoted, finding Tonya’s head peeking through a crack in the swinging kitchen door.

“I need to run out for about an hour,” she said. “Think you can handle things by yourself for a bit?”

“I’ve got it.”

“We need to talk about hiring extra help for the next couple of weeks,” she reminded him. “You know things will get busy.”

“I told you I’ll handle it,” he said. “I’m going to put out feelers soon. I promise.”

Tonya rolled her eyes. “I’ve heard that before. I just don’t want a repeat of what happened at Christmas, okay?”

“I promise,” Gavin reiterated, shucking his apron and following her to the front of the store. “By tomorrow there will be several job postings online.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Gavin waved off her parting remark and made a mental note to write up a job ad. He definitely didn’t want a repeat of the Christmas debacle.

Decadente normally saw a steady, manageable stream of both local and out-of-town customers, but during the holidays, when wallets were a bit looser and people didn’t mind spending fifty bucks for a pound of high-end chocolate, the store got extra busy.

During the Christmas holiday season, Gavin had found himself in the kitchen until the wee hours of the morning, trying to keep up with demand. The constant foot traffic had kept Tonya on her toes and casting vicious looks Gavin’s way whenever he was in her vicinity.

Valentine’s Day was an even bigger chocolate holiday than Christmas. They were still relatively unknown last year, having opened a month before Valentine’s Day. But now that they had established somewhat of a reputation—thanks in no small part to Erica’s advice to market Decadente chocolates as the
ultimate
indulgence gift—Gavin expected sales to be twice what they were at this time a year ago.

Not trusting himself to remember, he took out his iPhone and typed in a reminder to upload an ad on a couple of local online job boards soon.

Gavin manned the store front, which wasn’t his usual forte. He had enough on his plate being chief executive officer, chief financial officer, the human resources department, head chocolatier, and, on days when it was muddy outside, custodian. He was more than happy to leave the actual selling to his saleswoman, who was just as passionate about the business as he was.

Tonya, whom he’d met during a class he’d taken at a local community college to brush up on his chocolate-making techniques, agreed with his choice to stick to the kitchen. She’d told Gavin on several occasions that he was bad for the business’s bottom line because he tended to give away more chocolate than he sold.

He was just eager to have people taste his newest creations. Today’s featured item was lavender, honey, and anise-flavored caramel double dipped in 68% dark chocolate. It had taken him days of experimenting to get the balance of flavors just right.

By the time Tonya returned, Gavin had managed to actually sell a few pounds of chocolate. She held the glass door open for the customers who were leaving the store and continued to hold it. Gavin was just about to question what she was doing when he caught sight of Erica.

“Thanks,” she said to Tonya as she entered the shop ahead of her. “Okay, where’s my special chocolate?” Erica said, walking up to the counter.

“What makes you think I have special chocolates for you?” he asked, unable to keep the humor from his voice.

“Don’t play with me, Gavin Foster. What have you come up with for Your Wildest Dreams’ Valentine’s Day clients?”

He folded his arms across his chest and peered over at her, one brow spiked. He glanced at Tonya, who rolled her eyes, a knowing smirk on her lips. Tonya had hounded him on more than one occasion about dragging his feet where Erica was concerned. According to his chocolate-selling partner in crime, the attraction between Gavin and Erica was palpable.

Gavin knew what the score was on his end, but at times he was convinced that Erica didn’t have a clue as to how he really felt about her. It was frustrating as hell.

“Come on, Gavin,” Erica urged.

“Fine,” he finally conceded. “Your Wildest Dreams has its own exclusive chocolate. Follow me to the—what do you call it again?”

“The magic room,” she said, her smile huge.

Gavin greeted a set of women who’d just entered the store, then he led Erica to the back, holding the door to the kitchen open. He went over to the shelf where he’d stored the special chocolates that he’d taken way too much time slaving over, seeing as they wouldn’t be sold in the store. But he’d done so with one goal in mind: to impress Erica.

“For you,” he said. He lifted the lid to reveal heart-shaped chocolates with glimmering, metallic Art Deco swirls done in deep shades of red, magenta, and purple.

“Oh, my goodness, Gavin,” Erica gasped. Her reaction was exactly what he’d been aiming for when he’d set about creating the chocolates. It warmed him from the inside out, a rush of pleasure flowing through him at her enthralled expression.

“They’re too beautiful to eat,” Erica commented.

“That’s because you haven’t tasted them yet.”  

“What do they taste like?”

He held the container out to her. “See for yourself.”

Erica picked up the chocolate with the kind of care one usually reserved for a Fabergé egg or the Hope Diamond. She kept her eyes trained on him as she opened her mouth and took a bite.

She paused, closed her eyes. Moments later a wicked grin crept up the edges of her lips. Gavin’s stomach clenched at the sight. His tongue nearly darted out of his mouth, reaching for those lips.  

“Oh. My.
Goodness
,” she said. “What is this?”

“It contains kalpasi,” he said. “It’s a rare Indian spice that no one would think to put in chocolate, but I decided to give it a try. Turned out pretty good.”